Some Kind of Madness is Swallowing Me Whole
by FirstxLove
Summary: He's always reaching out for her, but it happens again. She slips through his fingers; she crumbles like sand. Time has run out. He's tried to save her, but she's lost again and again.


**Note**: I do enjoy playing with time. It's a long one. I hope this will tide you over until _I'm Doing Everything Wrong _3 comes along. I have started it, so there's that. I must be honest, this storyline has plagued my mind, so I really couldn't get chapter 3 down unless I finished this. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

The nightmares always come; they plague him every night. It is always the same one. When he is first kept up by the nightmare, it leaves him shaken and doubting. He, if given the chance, would never have forgotten it. He was with the boys at the barricade. It was a high and terrible thing; jutting pieces of wood, catching their sleeves and cutting their bodies. The roughened carvings of sweet, cherub faces look down at them, mourning and mocking.

He can still feel the heat of the June Parisian sun beating down on his back; it burns as if scorching his skin. His sweat falls in rivulets down his body, but he pushes on, piling piece after piece of furniture onto the barricade. Marius stands to his right and Combeferre is on his left. Grantaire charms a woman off of a chair. The sky twists and turns – transforms. Suddenly it is night and the National Guard is upon them. The soldiers are giants; their uniforms are blue and gold and are rags slipping past their bony limbs. They climb onto the barricade, but it is so large that even the giants are having difficulties reaching the top.

But not the Les Amis. With one step they have reached halfway; one leap leads them to the top, looking down into the blank eyes of a musket-bearing soldier. Enjolras watches from the ground as his friends and brothers climb and slay the National Guard. He can hear the slip and thud of every falling giant. He sees the long fingers of a soldier grasp the top of the barricade and then he spies two more sets of fingers. They have reached the peak of their masterpiece.

Marius is the one that takes action, scaling the barricade with a swiftness that Enjolras did not know the boy possessed. In one hand he carries a torch and in the other a barrel of gunpowder. It is horrible and terrifying and inspires in him an awe that shakes him to the core for he knows in that little barrel is enough powder to topple their tower and send everyone falling and falling and dead. His mouth is dry and throat parched and he can't say a thing. He is trapped, the cobblestones holding him in place. But he hears Marius clear as day.

_Fall back or I blow the barricade._

_Blow it up and take yourself with it?_

_And myself with it._

That short, terrible line affirms everything Enjolras knows. And he doubts again. Oh, but it doesn't end there. He sees a young boy, who is really Eponine, but only Enjolras knows this. Eponine runs up the barricade. Nothing catches on her sleeves and nothing cuts into her. Enjolras' heart breaks at how wonderfully beautiful it is. It is as if she's flying as the tears fall down her cheeks. She latches her small hand onto the barrel of a giant who is prepared to gun down Marius and points the terrible end into her chest. The monster pulls the trigger and Eponine's breath is stolen from her lungs. Enjolras' heart feels as if it is ripped from his chest and she falls and falls. He runs to catch her; he runs and runs and runs.

She falls and he cannot catch her.

He wakes up screaming.

* * *

The nightmare comes again and it is the same. And each time he believes he can catch her, but he can't. He wakes up screaming once, twice, three times.

He walks to the meeting in a daze. Enjolras' gaze is far-off and almost unseeing. But the meeting starts and the fire returns to his blue eyes. His passion burns and in the right lighting, his eyes look golden. He speaks and they shout and his soul is alive. When he approaches the end of his teaching, he jumps down from the table and his eyes flit back and forth frantically.

Marius is here, chatting with Combeferre in low tones. Enjolras looks again and finds her. She sits beside Grantaire who is using the gamine's shoulder as a pillow. She does not look bothered by it and he lets out a breath that he does not know he is holding. She is well and alive and that's all he can ask for.

* * *

This happens every meeting. He burns and sets fire to his brethren with his words and when it cools he feels like he's drowning. He looks for her and she is always by Grantaire and he breathes like he's been rescued from death itself. He watches her for a few moments, noticing how Grantaire will be the one to walk her home and how the man always happens to have a hand on her shoulder, her waist, her hip. She will sometimes look up and catch him looking at her. Her gaze is hard – suspicious – at first, but it softens after the third time she looks into his blue eyes. She nods and they know each other.

* * *

The June sun comes and Lamarque is dead. And Enjolras feels in his soul that Eponine will die next and he resolves that he must save her.

He has to be the one to catch her because no one else will.

* * *

It is the nightmare again, but this time it's real. The barricade is tall and it tears into them. The gunpowder is there and the smoke stinks and stings his eyes. He is not sleeping any longer.

His friends shoot at the soldiers who are just boys, just like them. He forces a disconnect; he turns the National Guard into giants and it doesn't hurt quite as much to shoot at them. He keeps his eyes wandering; a watchful gaze on Eponine who has come dressed as a boy. The night falls upon them and suddenly he chokes on air and his lungs feel compressed. He knows.

It is time.

His nightmare does not fail him. The National Guard climbs up the barricade and Marius runs and Eponine falls. A bottle cracks and shatters and the air smells like absinthe.

Enjolras cannot catch her, though she's fallen into his arms. He cannot save her.

There is a desperate wail behind him. His tears fall and then the darkness closes in on him as he holds her dying body. His eyes roll back and the blackness takes over.

* * *

He wakes up screaming.

His hands travel wildly across his body, searching for wounds that were there only seconds ago. Now they are not. The dawn comes and he dresses before running onto the grey Parisian streets. He runs and runs and he makes it to the Jardin du Luxembourg. The fountain kicks in then and the first gush of water startles him and he turns.

Across the lazily running water he sees her. He whispers her name and he runs to her. When he stops in front of her, she does not run.

_Eponine. _His tongue feels heavy; her name is a blessing and a curse, but she is alive.

Her eyes are confused, but she knows him and his hands are gentle as they cup her cheeks before travelling down her arms. He whispers her name like a prayer and his eyes are filling with tears.

His ears are filled with a voice that is deep and sounds like him, but more like God. He knows now.

_Only you can save her, Enjolras. No one else heard Me, but you did. Time turns and your hearts beat again._

* * *

All around him, unrest churns within the streets of Paris. His soul burns again to start a revolution for the people. He starts again, more fervent, more passionate, but so much more gentle.

He talks to her, walks with her, and keeps her from Marius Pontmercy who is the reason why she will die. She sits nearer to him now. Near the front and the fire he spreads with his words lick at her fingertips.

If anyone notices the change, they do not say a thing. Then Enjolras realizes, it is still early and the Les Amis is in its infancy. No one knows Eponine in the way she used to be. Eponine is transformed. She is revolutionary like them and no longer shadow.

Grantaire still holds her like she will fly away and be ripped from his grasp. He drinks more and his eyes are bloodshot as if he is always crying. And Enjolras feels like Grantaire knows too.

* * *

It rains and she wears his red coat as they run under one of the many looming arches of the church. The angels look down gently, never scathing. They hear the nuns sing their hymns and proclaim their prayers and Enjolras and Eponine find peace. There is thunder and he feels her fingers cling to his and not even the freezing rainfall can cool the warmth he finds there.

He looks at her and he knows. He cannot lose her this time.

* * *

May comes again and she never loves Marius Pontmercy. She finds his angel for him and loves him as a brother. She sits beside Grantaire and she laughs and the shadow of sadness that used to cover her never arrives. Enjolras sighs again, and he does not feel like he's drowning.

* * *

The nightmares return when May showers turn to June sun. He wakes screaming louder than before because this time he cannot run to her. This time, he is held back and when he turns his head it is Patria. She is dressed in rags and her cold, marble arms hold him back as a lover should, but it hurts him and he feels crushed. He is forced to watch as Eponine runs up the barricade. His friends are gone for they have been taken by death and Eponine is the final one standing before the barricade falls.

She is cut down by a blade and before she falls, she faces him and cries. He hears Patria laugh in his ear and it is cold.

_You are mine._

* * *

The fifth of June arrives and Enjolras has not slept. It is hard for him to breath and he finds her early in the morning. He cannot say what he wants, but she knows and she doesn't leave his side the whole day. She stands behind him during the funeral procession and her breath on his neck warms and cools him. He takes a deep breath and she hooks her little finger around his and he is calm.

The chaos starts again and the barricade is built. It is as terrible as he remembers and he almost hates it for it has brought him more pain than salvation. He takes his place, perched high at the top, and he faces the National Guard as bravely as he can. He falters because he doesn't want to feel the world crush him as he watches Eponine die another time.

The night comes again and danger is averted for the French soldiers have retreated and left them alone. Marius stays leaning against the wall, reading a letter from his Cosette. Combeferre tells him to rest and Enjolras knows that he cannot do this unless he finds Eponine first.

He finds her with Grantaire, the drunkard's head resting in her lap as he sleeps. Enjolras almost collapses beside her and she leans into him without disturbing Grantaire. He closes his eyes and brings her to him and he is not plagued by nightmares.

* * *

The morning arrives and Eponine shakes him awake. Grantaire is no longer there. The air is damp and his heart sinks when Courfeyrac whispers that their gunpowder is wet and ammunition is low. Enjolras looks over the barricade and spies the waiting soldiers. They are laughing and joking and, in that moment, the golden-haired revolution leader finds hatred for them because they are calm and his men are frightened.

He hears a scuffle and Courfeyrac and Combeferre are suddenly scrambling up the barricade. Enjolras feels his heart fall to his feet and his breath ripped from his lungs. It is time again. He hears his friends desperately calling Gavroche's name. Enjolras can hear the boy singing and is frozen when Eponine – her tan overcoat and long, dark locks flying behind her – leaps onto and over the barricade.

The first gunshot rings and Gavroche's song pauses and Eponine lands onto the cobblestone on the other side. He scrambles up the barricade and Marius holds him back. He sees red and is furious and struggles to rip himself from Marius' grip, but it holds strong.

The second gunshot rings and both he and Gavroche scream as it strikes Eponine in the shoulder. Still she stands and she yells at Gavroche to run back. But the young boy is frozen, tears in his eyes.

The third gunshot rings and Eponine physically puts herself between the bullet and Gavroche. She groans and falls forward, pulling Gavroche down with her, covering him. Enjolras can hear the boy's cries and Eponine is gasping.

He wrenches himself from Marius and makes his way to the siblings. Courfeyrac runs behind him and the National Guard do not shoot.

They pull the siblings behind the safety of their haphazard barricade. Gavroche kneels frozen beside his sister and his tears run silently down his face. Enjolras cries and Eponine's eyes are on him. She tells her brother she loves him and Enjolras knows he cannot save her.

This is the second time he could not catch her as she fell, and this hurt more than a blade to his heart. It hurts because he had tried so hard and he still could not save Eponine. He could not save Gavroche, and he lost himself in the aftermath.

Darkness surrounds him again and his eyes roll back.

* * *

He wakes this time crying heavily. His sobs rack his body and he clutches his chest as if holding his heart. Enjolras looks to heaven and is angry.

_What do you want of me?!_

_Why do you take her from me again and again?!_

He looks out the window and knows that time has turned again. He dresses and goes off into the night. He goes to find Grantaire.

* * *

"What's happening, Grantaire?" Enjolras grips at the worn wooden table he sits in front of. His eyes are wide and wild and Grantaire's gaze is suddenly clear, expression somber. Enjolras is so very tired.

He doesn't give his leader an answer; instead he replies with a question.

"Why did you come to me?" His voice is roughened by the alcohol he drinks like water. Enjolras sits silently, he knows. He knows why. Grantaire knows why it's him that these nightmares keep him up at night and why time is on repeat and why he is the only one that sees the light fade in her eyes; Grantaire knows.

Grantaire waits, his gaze suddenly burning on Enjolras' skin. But he knows. "You know." Enjolras looks desperately at his friend. "You know why I dream such dark things. And why when I try to change fate, it's always the same." He slams his hand on the table then swipes the mugs littering the table onto the floor. "Don't try to fool me, Grantaire! I am kept up by these nightmares! And it happens again and she dies and I die with her! And I know you know because you drink more than you have before! I am not blind!"

Enjolras leaps up and starts pacing almost madly. His heart hurts and it breaks like never before.

"Yes, I knew." Grantaire closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. A headache fast approaches. Enjolras stops pacing and faces the man.

"And you did nothing?" Enjolras feels his soul break and he is suddenly angry. "You knew and you didn't do a thing!"

"Because I am afraid!" Grantaire stands up, meeting Enjolras' furious gaze and he breaths heavily out his nose. "Do _not _get angry with me because I lose her just like you!" He slams his mug on the table. "I am afraid to act because I do not know if I can follow through! All I can do is hold onto her – keep one hand on her – just to make sure that it is not a dream and she is still there beside me! I do not know what to do and so I cannot act!"

Enjolras and Grantaire look at each other and Enjolras suddenly breaks.

Grantaire cries beside his leader.

_Time turns. What do you want from me?_

* * *

Enjolras makes his way to the café, fear and doubt weighing down on his shoulders. Quiet steps approach him, but he does not notice them until he runs quite ungraciously into the poor person.

"My apologies-" Enjolras freezes in place as Eponine picks herself up from the ground. She looks up at him with a sheepish grin before turning her eyes down.

"You all right, M'sieur?" Enjolras feels his heartbeat speed up and he knows Eponine notices his red eyes and the dark circles that are remnants of long nights spent crying. He considers lying for a moment.

"No."

He breaks again and Eponine holds onto him, his long arms wrapped tightly around her. She doesn't know why but she recognizes the hurt and hopelessness that racks his body and so she doesn't let go.

* * *

They miss the meeting that day. She urges him home and he refuses to go unless she comes with him. She doesn't ask questions, but concedes. She lets it happen because she understands. She understands that no matter how invincible Enjolras paints himself to be, he is nothing but a man.

Mortal. Vulnerable. Human.

Enjolras pulls her into him as he lays down on his bed. He curls around her and she closes her eyes. She knows the ache of loneliness all too well, so she clutches his shirt to let him know she's not leaving.

He presses his lips to her shoulder to show her he's not letting her go.

* * *

When he wakes she's still in his arms and she's asleep. He studies her momentarily and her eyes blink open. It is night time, but her brown eyes glitter as if the stars have taken residence there. Enjolras sinks his fingers into her hair and he relishes in the feeling of her still being there.

"Your friends might be waiting." They both know that the Les Amis are definitely waiting, but they want to pretend that they aren't.

"Just a moment more." He tangles his legs with hers and he resolves to protect her from the darkness of fate.

* * *

He walks with her to the cafe and they are silent and contemplating. The rain has stopped falling and he holds onto her hand. He finally understands the contact that Grantaire so desperately needed to have. It is because they are human and they are so lost.

When they enter the cafe the Les Amis meet Eponine and Joly for the first time. Eponine smiles more this night than she's smiled in all the previous times Enjolras has gotten to know her. Joly's awkwardness and happiness brings laughter to them all. It is nice to have the weight off of his shoulders, even if for one night only.

* * *

It is the September of 1830 and Enjolras finally meets Marius Pontmercy at the university. His story has not changed since the first time, but the blonde revolutionary is still able to find a friend in the boy. Even if he uses the term quite loosely. Courfeyrac is Marius' roommate and friend - Enjolras treats him well.

He burns through candles faster than before, spending long nights in silent contemplation. He waits for the nightmares; they never come. His dreams are filled with stars and dimpled smiles.

* * *

Enjolras has Eponine sit by him, keeping mind to steer her clear from Marius Pontmercy when the boy first comes to the Musain, so that she does not fall for him. He steers her from him because Marius is the reason why he lost her the first time. He keeps her from Marius because Enjolras knows he is better with her by his side and he needs her even if that is something he has yet to acknowledge.

Enjolras does not know it yet, and neither does Eponine, but it will never be Marius that turns her head and stutters her heart this time. The one who does, stands by her steadfastly like a statue, but loves her so that even his marble heart cracks and shatters and becomes whole. He is Jesus Christ and she is humanity; he will give himself up for her, no questions asked.

* * *

Time trickles by slowly this time around; it is as if God has given all of them one more chance to live life as He intended. Enjolras is both thankful and suspicious of it, but he takes what he can get. He makes sure that Eponine doesn't stray too far from him; he doesn't have to try too hard, however, for Eponine would not rather be anywhere else.

They meet at the Jardin du Luxembourg in the first few weeks of their friendship. At first, she walks a few steps behind him, fascinated by his broad shoulders and red coattails. At his insistence, she walks beside him and this oddity catches someone's eye.

Enjolras meets eight year old Gavroche that very day.

* * *

He leaves his window unlocked by November 1830. She climbs in the early morning hours and he dries her tears and holds her close.

1 December 1830 he locks his window because she no longer leaves him.

* * *

He knows that it is not a game that he plays when he is pushed yet again onto the doorstep of revolution. He holds more in his hands than he has held before. But he knows he cannot leave his brethren behind when they look to him with his passionate words and their idealistic dreams. It hurts him to think that he is throwing himself and all of his friends into the claws of death, but he doesn't think he can have it any other way.

Enjolras only wishes that he could change France and stay by Eponine to protect her at the same time.

* * *

February 1831, Enjolras bares his soul to Eponine.

She does not run; she does not judge. She loves him all the same.

She says nothing.

* * *

March 1831, Eponine shares all that she is with Enjolras.

She loves him all the more.

She says nothing still.

* * *

June 1831, Enjolras has one year before Lamarque falls. But this does not register in his mind. Instead he spends every waking moment with his friends. He does not even realize what he is doing.

He makes sure he learns every small detail of the Les Amis. Every slight tick they have and everything that they believe in. He stores it in his memory, carefully filed like every other aspect of his life. From Combeferre to little Gavroche, he strives to know everything.

He is not conscious of this sudden habit of his, but he does it because he will lose them all in one year's time.

The future is too dark, so he does not think about it.

* * *

It is late in the night when he wakes. Paris is still asleep and the streets are quiet. Eponine sleeps beside him, curled into his embrace. He runs his fingers through her hair; she had just brushed it before they went to sleep.

She used to be a light sleeper; the Parisian streets were unkind, her home even moreso, and she could not afford so many hours of sleep.

But when she's with him, she knows she is safe.

He cries quietly and his pillow catches his tears.

* * *

Before he knows it, it is 1832. He feels the weight of the revolution on his shoulders and it shows in his eyes. He has become Atlas and he carries Patria on his back for all eternity. His feet drag on the ground as he walks and he is constantly tired.

Somehow Eponine knows precisely what goes on in his mind and how heavily it weighs in his heart. He never says anything, but she knows his secrets just as he knows hers. She sends Gavroche off to tell the Les Amis that there will be no meeting today and Enjolras does not even have the strength to put up even a little fight. He has never been more thankful for her than he is now.

"Forget it all today." She presses her palm onto his cheek. "Forget it for all eternity, for all I care, Enjolras." He leans into her hand and her fingers play with the strands of hair by his ear.

"Don't leave me."

"I won't." When Eponine moves her hand from his cheek to his palm, it is as if she has worked some sort of magic because he can breathe again and the revolution doesn't weigh so heavily on him. "I can't."

* * *

It is night time at the Cafē Musain. Enjolras is in top form; his speeches are enflamed by the hunger that he sees in the eyes of the poor, the desperation that is still present in Eponine's movements, no matter how hard he tries to smooth it away with his hands and lips. Tonight she sits beside Grantaire, who has put down his bottle and not lifted it since she walked in the door. The man still watches Eponine with a careful gaze; he is afraid that she will disappear as she has done before. Enjolras sees Grantaire's fear in the way his fingers tentatively flit across Eponine's knuckles or how he whispers her name in a way that only Eponine can hear. She turns her head and he whispers a secret; Enjolras turns his head because he is looking to make sure that she hasn't flown from him as well.

* * *

Combeferre says that Enjolras' home has become something of a halfway house. As of late, Gavroche has been living with him as well, lying low as Courfeyrac's home is being picked apart by the building owner, who does not appreciate the spunky gamin. Grantaire intercepts from his seat beside Eponine, muttering he would have done the same thing - for both Gavroche and Eponine - and Enjolras knows that the other man speaks the truth.

He heads over to the pair and sits on her other side without a word. He leans back, closing his eyes in momentary peace. She winds her little finger around his. Gavroche's quick eyes do not miss the sudden relaxation that spreads through the revolutionary's young face, or the way his sister naturally leans in towards the man.

If there is one person who he will admit he cares about, this person is Eponine. There was a time where Gavroche worried that his sister would fall for the shy and handsome Marius Pontmercy. The man was just Eponine's type too. He was tall, bright-eyed, and always in love with love. He was the sort of man that Eponine would have imagined on a white horse coming to sweep her away from her dark life. Marius, as charming as he was, would have broken Eponine's heart clean in two.

At least, and of this Gavroche is sure, Enjolras is not Marius Pontmercy. He is the dark knight to Marius' shining prince. Where Marius would fill her heart with promises, Enjolras would be the one who fulfills them. And the last thing the golden-haired revolutionary would do is hurt his sister. Gavroche could not have asked for anything more.

By the end of the week, Gavroche returns to Courfeyrac's home. Eponine quietly asks him why he does not want to stay with her and with a knowing smirk that is just so Gavroche, he tells her for as much as he loves her, he simply cannot stay. He never does divulge any of the truth to her.

* * *

Time ticks by and the noose that he imagines around his neck tightens with each passing moment. The nights are longer, the nightmares returning. Each one a little different, but always the same. He can never save Eponine.

When he wakes up one night, he is lost and thrashes in his place by Eponine. He stifles his scream behind his fist, but Eponine still jolts awake. She first holds his arm then places a hand on his cheek, wet with tears and sweat. She looks him in the eyes, worry in hers and tears flooding his. He calms a little, but still his body shakes and he hyperventilates. He almost cannot believe that she is there - _right there _- and breathing and alive and not taken by death.

"You're here." He pulls her to him, terrified that she was a figment of his imagination. "My God. You're here."

She nods, still visibly worried. He has never told her of his nightmares and he never truly does.

* * *

28 May 1832

Enjolras spends his nights wide awake, staring at Eponine's sleeping face. When sleep finally beckons him, he wraps himself around Eponine and flattens his palms on her back. In the quiet of the night, he whispers his fears into Eponine's ear. She remains sleeping, but he hopes that somehow he is heard in her dreamland.

"I can't lose you."

* * *

4 June 1832

Lamarque's death rattles the people of Paris. The student revolutionaries jump at the opportunity and Enjolras is at the helm, leading the charge. He is aflame with the passion he feels for the cause - for Patria. He is the golden leader of freedom.

He is Apollo and he brings the sun.

Enjolras spends this final night in the comforts of his flat. He stays wide awake; Eponine is curled in his lap as he sits in front of the fire. His one arm holds her to him and his other hand plays with the ends of her long hair. Eponine sits awake as well and both are trapped in their own thoughts. Enjolras stares into the fire and Eponine stares at his red coat that hangs over a chair a few feet away from them.

He carefully runs his fingers down her back and she shivers under his touch. She tucks her face into his neck and he feels the smile on her lips against his skin. His lips quirk up, before he gently tilts her head back. Her lips are parted and their breathing slows down, watching each other with half-closed eyes. With a tenderness that he did not have before Eponine came into his life, Enjolras places his lips on hers. Neither move, too afraid of what happens next. He curls a lock of her hair around his finger and their eyes close.

He knows that he loves her more than he should.

* * *

When the dawn arrives, it is much too early. Enjolras prays for more time, but he knows that God does not hear him. He stares at Eponine's sleeping form for a long time. He memorizes everything about her – every curve, every edge, every freckle. He traces his fingers along her lips, fascinated by the slight curve and the smoothness he feels there. His fingers travel down her jaw, then her neck, her shoulder, her side, her waist. He stops at her hip, where the sheet starts to cover her.

She smiles in her sleep and Enjolras grins in spite of himself. He has always been a man of God, but never has he truly meant his gratitude for Eponine until now. Eponine's eyes slowly flutter open and she watches him quietly. He gazes at her with a gentleness that belies the usual coldness in his eyes. He leans towards her, looking directly into her eyes. He kisses her and she cannot look away from the beauty she finds in his eyes.

It is a peaceful moment and if there were no impending war that afternoon, Enjolras imagines many more moments such as this. Eponine stays quiet for a long time, but her lips open and the silence is broken.

"I can't lose you either."

It is the last moment of peace they will ever share.

* * *

He begs her to leave the barricade - to go as far as she possibly can. He is desperate and his voice cracks with the conviction he wills onto Eponine. But she shakes her head with a grim finality that Enjolras both admires and fears. He doesn't want her here, but he cannot function without her. He cannot move without knowing, with absolute certainty, that she is safe. And if he cannot see her, then he just does not know.

"Where you are, I will be right behind you." He blocks out the rush and hysteria of the barricade that goes on around them. "I will not leave you. No. Not the one man I've come to lo-"

Her mind stops forming words and she cuts off before telling him the one thing she desperately needs him to hear. Enjolras' world freezes momentarily and he stares at Eponine. Her cheeks burn at her confession, but she does not need to complete her sentence for him to know exactly what she means. He leans into her, pressing his lips to the inside of her wrist.

"I know." He looks her in the eyes as he whispers this so she knows that he means it with his whole being. "Stay." _I love you._

* * *

He and his men – his friends – are cornered; they are trapped behind a barricade that once symbolized the fall of the monarchy and the start of a new France, but now it has condemned them. For their dreams have become a crime, their revolution has turned into a rebellion, and death is their punishment. Enjolras would have given up anything to turn the tides so that his friends could live another day, but it was not meant to be so.

The National Guard come forward, tripping over the haphazardly placed furniture. The Les Amis push them back valiantly with oddly coordinated gun shots, but the soldiers still march on – the fallen replaced by more men in uniform. There is no foreseeable end.

Enjolras urges his brothers on and his passion lights theirs, but with both sides pushing against one another, the Les Amis soon see the whites of their eyes. Both sides are face to face and no one can ignore that they are all one in the same: mortal, French, brothers. It makes killing one another that much more painful.

"Enjolras!" He freezes in place when he hears her scream. He is pushed backwards and he is forced to watch as the National Guard bring her down. That should have been him. When they see her long, dark tresses the soldiers put their guns down and back away, hiding behind pillars and their cannons. The barricade has become silent.

His world stops spinning and he catches her as she falls forward. He cannot believe it. There is a roaring in his ears and his mind is in disarray. When he pulls one hand from her, he finds it stained red with her blood. His eyes are wide with terror when he finally looks at her in the eyes.

"You have saved me, Enjolras." She gasps into the cold, night air. He presses his lips to her forehead, refusing to believe that the blood that is flowing onto his hands is hers. "Now let me save you."

"I haven't." He murmurs and brushes her hair from her forehead. "I haven't saved you."

She shakes her head. "You cannot change fate, Enjolras, though I know you've tried." And now he realized; Eponine knew. "But you have saved me more than you could ever know."

"You cannot die today." He cradled her in his arms; he can hear Gavroche's wails even though the boy tries to muffle himself into Courfeyrac's shirt. "I need you." Enjolras has not yet looked away from Eponine. "You cannot leave me today. You can't leave me alone."

"Not alone; you were never alone." She smiles warmly up at him as if they are back in his bed and nothing is wrong with the world, but the way she gasps for breath and clutches his hand wrenches him back from that dream and he must face the horrid truth. She is dying. "I do have something to tell you, Enjolras."

"Anything, say anything." Enjolras cries openly and in the blurs of his peripheral vision he spies Grantaire fall to his knees.

"It's a secret, you know." He gazes at her desperately, willing her to stay with him for just a moment more. "I do love sharing them with you, you see."

"I won't tell if you don't want anyone to know." He grins in spite of himself and she chuckles in response. He holds her hand to his cheek. Her fingers are getting colder. "I'll keep it to myself. No one has to know"

"I love you." He places his lips on her cheek, his mouth repeating his love for her over and over again. Tears fall from his eyes and mixes with hers. "I'm so sorry I've kept it from you."

Eponine's goodbye is her final confession. The cry that comes Enjolras' lips is heart-wrenching and the Paris skies turn grey.

It is the last time he holds her in his arms.

* * *

Just moments ago his passion was lit with the flame he found in Eponine.

Now, the light in his life has gone out.


End file.
